


Crimson Enigma

by Darksilversilhouette



Category: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: Not Beta'd, Other, Other additional tags to be added later, Sorry for the mistakes in the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-19 17:35:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13709346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darksilversilhouette/pseuds/Darksilversilhouette
Summary: Sephiroth found out about his origins in Nibleheim; Genesis was the one who guided him both to his past and that enigmatic mansion Shin-Ra had built years ago. After his demise, he tries to pick up the pieces.





	Crimson Enigma

**Author's Note:**

> This is also another thing I had written some years ago. It was originally a two chapter story, but when I began rereading it, it just didn't make any sense. I couldn't help but find it rather vulgar. I couldn't just stand how much of a PWP the first chapter was, there was no finesse, not point, nothing. That's why I just decided to get rid of it. I know, it definitely wasn't a good idea to cut it all out, and just post the second chapter, but aside from some unresolved, and untold past Vincent/Genesis, it should make sense. At least, that's what I hope. I'd like to know what you think.

_"People, they don't mean a thing to you,_

_They move right through you, just like your breath,_

_But sometimes I still think of you." Sam Endicott_

Steps echoed through the desolated ruin. Crumbled concrete, huge glass shards, metal bars lay haphazardly here and there. The tall tower of the Shin-Ra building loomed over the wreck of a once admired metropolis. The plate that once separated those above from the lowly below was just like a spider web now. Nothing remained of the meandering highways, of the luxurious skyscrapers, of the mighty Midgar.

 _‘At least the sky is clear.’_ He joked as he tried to lessen the grimness of the situation. He hadn’t loved Midgar, not at all. In fact, he didn't feel any kind of bond between him and the places he had been to, not even his hometown. But the city was where he had spent a good decade of his life, where a lot of his memories had taken place, either gleeful or somber. It was where a portion of his dreams had come true.

He paused in his tracks. A dozen of feet away, among the destroyed ruin of fallen buildings, the headquarters still stood in all its glory.

He had witnessed the incident from what his goddess had showed him, had sensed the raw, unadulterated power of that otherworldly, sinister will, cell by cell, as Meteor had cleaved the atmosphere, through the planet defenses, through the Lifestream, and watched as the jewel of Shin-Ra's empire was reduced to bits and pieces.

A strong urge pulled him toward the construction but he stood there, not moving a limb. If he could turn back the time like a video tape…

_‘No.’_

It wasn't late. In fact, it was just the beginning.

A genuine smile touched his lips, and he turned around, the crimson coat flapping around his leather encased legs as he walked away. Blood dripped down the tip of his ruby sword, marking his trail as he wandered in the ruins.

He was a morbid sight to see. The vivid, viscous liquid dyed his coat, already drying crimson splashes covering him all up to his hair, the image of blood spatters across porcelain face resembling a grotesque painting. He knew there was really no need to tuck away awry strands, despite the urge, as it only made the situation worse.

An under construction expressway linked the ruins to the newly built city in the outskirts of Midgar. The city, Edge, was like a gray scale picture from far.

With this attire of his favorite color, and the SOLDIER emblem, he knew that he would stick out like a sore thumb and have the whole population strangle the life out of him. Not that he couldn't handle that, but he needed to change his appearance, to blend in.

The idea was very irritating but he had to. It was when his years back at SOLDIER became handy. He ran down the highway in a red blur, keeping to the shadows, passing various houses until he found a dark, empty alley. He waited there, lurking in the shadows, thinking up a plan. Azure eyes searched the walls for windows, which he found none.

 _‘Damn.’_ Shaking his head, he leaped onto the roof, his sharp vision taking in every detail. Finding an open window just a few blocks away, he jumped from roof to roof, and when he found no one watching, he jumped down to his destination. Hanging from the window sill, he inside the room before jumping through the window.

He found the room empty and very _small._ In fact what had seemed to be a room was an entire accommodation. A smirk tugged on the corner of his lips. ‘ _How low their expectations have fallen…’_ He could remember how those humans were ready to revolt against Shin-Ra for just an extra square feet and now…

Well, there was nothing he could do now. Soon it all would be over.

Searching around, he found a worn-out rucksack, taking off his crimson coat and neatly folding it, he placed it inside. The harness belt soon followed. Shuffling a little more through the disorderly closet, he finally found a beanie. Just as he was about to wear it, the sound of key turning in the lock reached his ears. If his work was finished he would have jumped out without even being noticed but it wasn't. The scent of dried blood had filled the whole room, it wouldn't slip the owner's senses.

 _‘They aren't here yet.’_ He thought as he stood next to the door, waiting for his prey. Just as the door closed, a bright spray of blood painted the opposite wall of the room. Dragging the limp body to the small kitchenette, he tossed it in a corner, only crouching beside him to retrieve the key and his money. This man’s life was of no importance, especially when all the population would soon follow.

Wearing the hat and tucking the astray brilliant strands, he closed the window and left.

Exiting through the front door of the dingy apartment, he began wandering in the town. Like he had seen earlier, it was just a gray scale scenery. Even now, with his clothes blending in with theirs, some eyes were riveted on him. As much as he enjoyed being bathed in attention, he couldn't let that take the better of him.

People filled the streets, oblivious to their own kind suffering in those dark shadows. They were fools, ignorant fools. Overthrowing the only company that could at least satisfy their basic needs, maintain order in their cities, they had left their world at the hand of a blond boy and his sidekicks who thought could save the world. How? With what experience, while they understood nothing of the world around them?

They, so much like their so adored justice league, thought that Holy, that dead Cetra would solve all their problems. They thought that the Holy that had failed them when Meteor fell, would save them now from this wicked disease, Sephiroth's brilliant legacy. Or did they really think that the blond would save them?

Ha, he himself was struggling with it, their prized coward hero. Where was that blond now? Hiding himself from the world they had created by their own hands, crying, begging of someone to stop this gloomy nightmare, to take this arduous burden off his shoulders, for he had not, even once in his life, at least led a flock of sheep, let alone a world of people.

Even his goddess had problems handling this planet. He smirked, shaking his head. There was no goddess, not anymore. His goddess was just like those humans. She had failed him even when he had put aside his pride, asking her to accept him. His goddess had erred, she was mortal, just like those petty beings. His goddess, whom he had worshipped so, was dead.

From what he could remember, which was almost anything thanks to his photographic memory, Midgar was much more lively and energetic than what he was seeing now. It was the gift of the ones who thought that they could save the planet. ‘ _That foolish blond.’_ Things were beyond salvation. Only one way remained, only one.

He decided to go somewhere to pass his time until _they_ arrived. A shiver of excitement ran down his spine. His friend’s remnants. He didn't know how much they’d resemble him.

 _‘Let's pay the blond and his party, a visit’._ Asking about where he could find that blond was a hard thing to do, he decided to find it on his own, not wanting to speak to them. It wasn't important if he couldn't.

It was late at night when he finally found the bar. ‘ _Seventh heaven. As if you're angels…’_ He mocked.

His hand lingered on the door but finally deciding, he went inside. Like what he thought, a good number of people were gathered there, a brunette serving them, managing the bar all by herself. ‘ _That stupid blond isn't even capable of helping his partner.’_ His late and unexpected entrance earned him a few drunken, hollow looks which he shrugged off, seating himself in the last empty bar stool by the counter.

Looking around and dismissing all those weary faces who were laughing or chattering idly, ignoring the truth for just a night, he saw many pictures hanging on the wall.

"You're new. Do you live here?" Her feminine voice brought his attention to the bartender who was washing a few glasses.

A smirk curved his lips as he looked again back to the wall. ‘ _Curious, perhaps too curious.’_

"Yeah." He answered as indifferently as he could, trying to avoid more questions.

"What's your name?"

This time, he looked back, coming face to face with the beaming girl who was eyeing him. ‘ _How bold…’_ Smirking yet again, he suppressed the sudden desire to put her back into her place.

"Do you always ask the name of your costumers?"

"I thought you-…"

"I would like vodka, if you don't mind." Genesis cut her off, azure eyes looking fixedly in legible dark brown. Finally, she gave up, bringing him a still capped bottle and a tumbler.

"Suit yourself." She smiled back defiantly as she placed her hands on her waist, looking at him inquisitively.

He could feel the eyes of all those drunkards on him as the girl made a scene. A smile found its way on his lips as slender fingers clasped around the translucence bottle, looking back at her still beaming face when he broke the neck against the counter. His smile grew as her eyes went wide dramatically, her expression changing to that of shock. Standing up, he placed a handful of gil on the smooth bar surface.

"I wonder why you're not broke yet." He turned around on his heel, heading for the door, a smirk of victory curving his lush lips. Exiting the bar, he could pick up the tiniest hint of a familiar aura. He looked around the dark alley. The aura was familiar, very familiar, but he couldn’t pinpoint it yet, as it seemed so far away, so minor that it could be almost ignored. Shrugging it off, he headed back to his new found house.

As long as it wasn't Sephiroth's, it didn't matter.

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The bottle was halfway empty, his finger playing against the mouth of the tumbler that was on the bland coffee table. The bitter taste was still on his tongue as he lay in complete silence on the plain sofa, azure crescents watching the first lazy rays of sun through thick auburn lashes.

He rose to a sitting position, tossing the dark sheet aside, his hand leaving the glass on the table as he stood up, running a hand through unruly tresses. Heading to the kitchenette, he paid little heed to the ashes that grimed the tile floor.

Opening the almost empty refrigerator, he took two eggs, deciding to fry them for his very early breakfast. Just as he was about to pour the cracked eggs into the boiling oil, he dropped it, the mushy mass flattening against the floor.

_Shit…_

Turning around abruptly in a certain direction, he couldn't do anything but stare. _Sephiroth?_ How had he not noticed it earlier? The aura he had sensed last night. It seemed so near now, but where it was, he still didn’t know. Soon, he would find it though.

He turned the knob before the oven would put the house on fire, long strides carrying him toward the door, midway retrieving the rumpled dark cloak he had and left.

His inhuman speed soon carried him, unnoticed, to the ruins of Midgar, where he took off his hood, willing his wing to existence. He bent it forward, caressing those elegant, soft feathers. ‘ _It's been a long time…’_ Folding the dark fabric, he held it firmly against his chest, as he stretched his wing, darting up high.

Below was the planet, the Gaia, with all its ignorant peoples. It was a hideous sight to see. They were killing themselves slowly and painfully and they named it fighting against the evil, though never the once it occurred to them what good and evil was.

If it was good to destroy the Mako reactors, releasing immeasurable amount of radioactivity and horrible gases, if it was good to overthrow the only hierarchy able to control this disorderly world, breaking all the hell loose, if it was good to send their once renowned hero back to Lifestream, deeming him the sole source of their sorrow and hatred, then so be it. They would soon get what they had asked for.

Silvery barren trees came into his view, the sense, the feeling becoming stronger and stronger, like a beating heart. He landed smoothly in what seemed an endless forest. He placed the his gloved hand on the icy trunk of one of the trees, feeling the reverberating power through it, as its life force was being sucked out of it oh so very slowly.

Folding his wing as he walked, he threw the hood around his shoulder, nearing the cause of tangible uneasiness in the ethereal forest with graceful vigilance. Picking up the low rustle and the subdued conversation, he slowed down his pace.

"When will we find her?"

Genesis crouched behind the bushes, following them with his eyes, amazed by their close resemblance to his friend. ‘ _Goddess…’_ All three of them had silvery hair. ‘ _I found them, Sephiroth.’_ He had to get closer to them, especially to the one who had waist length hair, the very younger version of Sephiroth himself.

"Hey, Kadaj, when are we going to big brother's city?" The one who had piqued his interest spoke again.

"After we're finished with them." It was the shortest boy in their trio, seeming to be the youngest, too.

Together, they chuckled, the familiar dark tones resounding in the air. His eyes found the ones who the boy had mentioned, two Turks whom they were dragging by the collar, their usually chic attire covered with a thick blanket of blood and dirt.

"What do you want to do with them?" The one with waist-length hair asked, looking at the youngest. It seemed that he was their leader.

"We're going to interrogate them." The youngest answered, soon followed by another question from the remaining one in their trio. "Do you think president holds mother?"

"Who knows…"

He slowly retreated, having made sure that he could find them here when it was needed. But he soon found out that he wasn't the only one watching over his friend's progeny. Materializing his flamboyant sword from thin air, he held it behind his back as hushed steps carried him toward his target.

One more step forward and he leaped at the man, Rapier's blade caressing that vulnerable neck dangerously. Azure eyes went wide as he came face to face with those ruby orbs he had seen years ago.

 _‘Vincent?’_ He realized his mistake too late. Jumping to his feet, he ran eerily in a black blur, the crimson caped man in hot pursuit. He had to flee or his plans would turn to dust.

He only had to get as far as possible away from this bizarre forest. He had to rely on his feet only for flying now was a grave mistake. Should they mistake him with their nightmare, and before the boys could even show an appearance, the trio could get killed.

Halfway through the desert and he was still chased by Vincent, now the red demon was firing his gun at him to make him stop. The staccato sound of bullets were driving him crazy as he zigzagged, having to extinguish the already twinkling halo that surrounded his hidden fist. The towering unfinished buildings of Edge were looming ahead, casting their tall shadows on the barren ground.

With all the strength he could muster, Genesis ran, glancing over his shoulder at the man who was relentlessly following him, now a dozen feet behind.

The pursuit continued even after he ran to the rooftops, he was beginning to feel frustrated but the fact that he had called Vincent's attention to himself and away from the silvery trio was enough.

"Stop!" Genesis turned around, holding out his hand as his voice rang in the deafening silence. A few steps backwards, and he could fall off the building. He remembered…

_‘"If this world seeks my destruction…" He lifted up, standing gracefully on the railing."…It goes with me…"_

_He let his body fall down the endless darkness, his fall endless. He didn't know where it ended but he was sure about one thing; he wouldn't die here...’_

His chest was heaving slightly. Taking a cautious step behind, and then another, he threw his weight backwards, landing softly on the ground and again he ran, mingling with the shadows. He hid himself as far away as he could, lurking in a dark corner.

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Vincent Valentine couldn't believe what he had seen. At first he had thought that the silver haired demon had turned back to life, but then who could have the other two been. When he had thought that nothing could go any more wrong than this, he had seen a ghost from years ago. He had tried to follow him, to talk to him, but it had to wait. 

The two Turks he had seen with the trio, their lives depended on him. Seeing their broken battered bodies, he could have said for sure that those boys had some relationships with Sephiroth. The way the silver haired men had tortured them, unadulterated joy shining wickedly in their emerald catlike irises, the mention of their Mother as they interrogated the two unfortunate Turks, was so familiar to Vincent.

Those boys meant nothing but more trouble. ‘ _Why are they here?’_ However they hadn't even left the Forgotten Capital since he had found out about their existence. No one knew when they would start their rampage, repeating that nightmare all over again.

Leaving the battered, unconscious duo after delivering another round of kicks and punches, the mischievous trio had headed to their shelter, the helical enigmatic monument. Not waiting a minute further, Vincent darted to their side, crouching beside them, and checking their pulse.

He sighed briefly in relief and threw Tseng's limp body over his shoulder. _“Hang on.”_ He urged under his breath. Cradling Elena in his arms, he ensured their safety before running toward Edge. “Hold on.” A smirk ghosted over his lips. What was he thinking? They were Turks, they could get over it. Turks were all die hard. ‘ _Just like you.’_

Carrying them to the nearest medical ward, the doctors tried to assure him but he knew better. They were too injured to heal so fast. Exiting the ward, he walked back home.

Even now, with Cloud and everyone known as the saviors of the world, he was the one that attracted the most unwanted attention. He could feel it as he walked among them. Was he just pretending not to feel, not to see? He could see them watching him wide-eyed, whispering to each other as they passed him by. Some pitied him for his half-monster, half-human appearance, some despised him and the others… He felt it with all his existence. He didn't belong to them, the people; not even to the party. He was the odd ring of their chain.

The metal clanged softly as he walked making him stop. He was a…

‘ _No.’_ He stopped that thought before it could take the same turn it always did.

It was Hojo's fault then… ‘ _No.’_ Who was he kidding? It was his fault, his incapability to protect both himself and Lucrecia. Should he hate himself? Why should he hate himself?

Turning the key in the lock, he opened the door. Despite the act being old-fashioned, he wanted it to remain this way. Warm, fiery hues painted the apartment in dusk colors. His hand worked in complete harmony with his clawed one, unfastening the buckles on his hood one by one, taking it off.

As he was passing by his bedroom, he stopped dead, not turning his head to look inside. It was nothing new, his mind never stopped playing delicious tricks about that redheaded SOLDIER from those years ago.

"Did you enjoy killing your lover's son?"

 _‘That voice…’_ It was as though that melodious voice reverberated through the whole apartment, shaking his very foundations. He turned around, taking a few careful steps inside the room. ‘ _Genesis?’_ He was sitting on the window frame, looking out at the vermilion welkin that matched his attire, only this time a black appendage, what seemed to be an over-sized wing, sprouting out of his back.

Facing him, those lush, pink lips were curved into a smirk as flamboyant sunrays painted half his face while nothing of those grey hair that had streaked his brilliant auburn locks remained.

"How did it feel?" Genesis asked again, unrelenting.

Vincent was torn between rushing to the redhead and yanking him from his collar or just stay there, rooted in his place. He was seething with rage from what Genesis had done to him, to his pride, however he was staring at him with the same expressionless façade.

Albeit his fury, he was hesitant whether to approach him or not. His image seemed so frail that he thought if he were to touch him, he would dissolve into thin air.

 _Genesis…_ He tried to speak, his lips forming hollow, soundless word, his voice was stuck in his throat. "Genesis?"

Standing up, the silent SOLDIER eased the invisible creases on his coat, all the time holding his ruby eyes with his azure gaze before walking toward him.

"Whom did you expect?"

He was frozen in his spot, his body rebelling against his mind as a heavy silence settled between them. Genesis passed him by, heading for the living room as his heeled boots thudded against the floor, while Vincent just stood there, befuddled both by the impossibility of the situation and the intense presence of the fiery warrior.

Breaking out of his trance and turning around, Vincent followed him, finding the redhead lounging on the plain sofa, looking around the bland apartment.

Finally making up his mind, he stood there, right in the middle of the room, holding the latter's eyes with his own.

"Why are you here?"

One auburn eyebrow quirked upward at the question. "What's the problem of my being here?"

Hidden flames started kindling in ruby orbs, his ignited fury trickling in his neutral voice as he spoke. "After what you did, why did you think your presence would be welcome here?"

Smirk tugged on Genesis' lips. "What did I do that hurt your pride that much?" Sarcasm dripped from every word that those lips formed, that melodious voice deadlier than the finest weapons.

One moment they were standing in front of each other and the other, Vincent was gripping the leather of Genesis' collar. The redhead dangled a few inches above the ground, his smirk widening significantly.

"I never asked for it." Vincent hissed dangerously, their faces only an inch away.

"But you never rejected it. In fact, you _enjoyed_ it."

Chaos knew how much he wanted to throw Genesis at the wall in front of him now. Releasing the redhead, he turned around. "Is that what you’ve come all this way to tell me?"

He could sense as the redhead came close. Settling his leather encased hands on his broad shoulders, his warm breath tickling Vincent’s bare neck as he whispered, plush lips brushing the shell of his ear as he spoke, sending shivers down his spine. "Just a monster… that's what you are."

Genesis' feverish lips caressed his neck but just as he was about to kiss him, Vincent took a step away.

"I see no reason in continuing what happened in the past." With that, he went to the adjoined kitchen, taking a bottle of water, pouring the frigid liquid in a glass. Leaning to the counters, he tried to calm down. He had to suppress a sigh as he heard those steps again, gulping down his glass and putting it aside to hide his shaking hands.

"My friend do you fly away now, to a world that abhors you and I? All that awaits you is a somber morrow, no matter where the winds may blow…"

Strange and unbeknownst to him it was, but he could hear traces of joy in his voice that was tinted with melancholy those years ago.

"Is that all you know about Loveless?" Vincent mocked him.

Entering the small room, the raven haired man could sense as élan flowed from the fiery redhead, accompanying his every move, every gesture. ‘ _Haven't lost your poise through all these years.’_

"Why, no…" There was unhidden challenge in his azure eyes.

Holding the empty glass behind him, he listened to the deafening silence that hung tangibly in the room. Alarms had long gone off in his mind, and every time the redhead shifted, even slightly, he found himself calculating his movements.

He was frustrated both with himself and with Genesis. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the leather-clad figure in front of him, even when he knew that the SOLDIER was doing the very same he had done, all those years ago.

Vincent chose to break the silence to make him either go or… "Where were you all these years?"

Threading his fingers through auburn tresses, Genesis looked up, a smile playing on his lips. "Salvation."

"So you were alive…" Tiniest bit of smirks touched the older man’s lips, "Why did you never try to ally with your friend?"

The smile vanished from those lips, crimson encased fingers twitching into a fist. "The same question applies to you, too." A smirk was tugging on his lips as Genesis continued, "Why did _you_ ally yourself with his enemies?"

"I'm no-…" There was a strong urge to rub his temples. How he hated the direction their discussion was heading. "I'm not. _his_. _father._ " He sighed inaudibly. Did he wish he were? "Hojo is."

"Ha! Your information seems to be mistaken and not very reliable." Genesis mocked him, repeating the same words he had said years ago, to a very different yet so similar person.

"He said so himself." Vincent tried to reason with the redhead, and begrudgingly with himself.

Shrugging, Genesis pushed away from the counter, smirking as he went back to the living room.

Just as the redhead was out of sight, Vincent sighed with relief. He really was a lone wolf, just as others tried to joke with him. He would rather have no company at all, and having Genesis around was his worst nightmare.

"How are the blond boy and his company?" Hearing the ex-SOLDIER’s voice from the other room, a solemn smile crept to his lips as he left the glass back on the counter, exiting the room toward his bedroom, choosing not to answer.

He had no intention of being dressed in leather in his home. Taking the glove off his human hand, subconsciously he began unfastening his belts. Many thoughts were racing in his head about Genesis, about his motivation, his relation to the trio at the Forgotten Capital, what he was going to do, why turn up now, everything.

Shaking his head slightly, he knew he could get nothing past those lips. Placing everything neatly on the bland wooden chair, Vincent began taking off his leather crew-neck, taking more care with his clawed hand.

Suddenly, he could feel those azure eyes that were watching him. How had this slipped from his keen senses? How long had Genesis been watching, he didn't know.

"How are you enjoying your _glorious_ days?" The redhead asked.

"Nothing has changed for me."

"Oh? Still mourning over her?"

Vincent closed his eyes. Why was he this impossible to bear?

"That's none of your business." The decision was made. The redhead had to leave or both of them would be doomed. "Genesis…What do you want?"

Before the raven haired man could turn around, he heard steps. _Genesis!_ He wanted to call after him, stop him from leaving but held himself back. He walked back to the living room, seeing Genesis standing in front of the door with his back facing him. "You're not going to tell them about me, are you?"

Vincent remembered all the things Genesis had told him back at the mansion. The way he talked about his _dear_ silver haired friend. "No…"

The sound of the knob turning reached his ears, and before he could say one more thing, the redhead vanished as though never been there, leaving the echo of the banging door as the only sign of their meeting.

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He was frustrated. All of his plans went wrong. Where had he erred when he was talking with Vincent?

Cursing under his breath, he ran as fast as he could. It was dark, there were less people around but still there were people. He didn't want more intervention. Vincent shouldn't have been there back at that forest.

He climbed up the emergency stairs subconsciously, as it was becoming a routine, turning the key inside the lock, and he was back to his temporary base.

He began pacing up and down the room. It would postpone everything. The raven haired man wouldn't trust him now, because of what he had done years ago. Or was Vincent just acting?

He wasn’t worried about himself. Even if everything went wrong, he wouldn't be in trouble. He was a _damn_ first class. What worried him the most were the silver haired trio. If they acted sooner than he had his plan set in motion… Maybe he should have contacted them? No, he changed his mind.

Sitting, he stopped second guessing himself. He needed a plan, a new plan. His eyes lingered on the dark cloak that covered the sofa.

Shifting to a lounging position, he crossed his hands beneath his head. He really had nothing to do. He wasn't interested at all about this world.

 _Weiss-…_ He interrupted himself, not allowing the thought to come to fruition, not liking the direction it would lead him. However, he knew better that it had no use trying to run away from it. Their blood dyed his hands. Their faces would haunt his dreams forever.

Willing Rapier out of thin air, his leather encased fingers caressed the edge, tingling with the hidden power. A smile touched his lips against the gravity of situation.

A part of him wanted to hang around with the blond's group more, learning about them, their secrets and then… A chuckled passed his lips at the devilish thought. But he chose not to. It would only increase the risk of having his plans thwarted.

His hand subconsciously reached for his pocket, taking out his PHS and flipping it open. Once in his past life, it wasn't possible for his phone not to ring every five minutes but now… it was nothing but a nostalgic reminder. He didn't belong here. They didn't belong here.

_‘Good for you, Angeal.’_

At least his fallen friend was resting somewhere safe, not seeing anything, not feeling anything but… ‘ _There is no hate, only joy, for you are beloved by the Goddess.’_

He shook his head. Now everything was different. Now he didn't want to feel nothing, didn't want to be his goddess' mindless oblivious puppet, even if it meant not entering the Lifestream, even if it meant living forever in this world.

He and Sephiroth were the rejected ones, both by the planet and by his goddess. However this refusal would cost them beyond belief, and no one would be able to stop them, not even his once beloved deity, let alone that blond boy.

Standing up in one swift motion, he picked up the cape from jumble of clothes that covered the floor, Genesis exited the room toward the Forgotten Capital.

The boys were still there, their silver hair fading against the ivory of the monument. He didn't know why but found himself enjoying watching them. Even though they seemed brothers, but in a bizarre way, they reminded him of what they once were, Angeal, Sephiroth and he.

Well, their appearances showed him nothing. He had to see how they'd fare in actual battle. ‘ _Better fail him not.’_ He went back all the way he came into the forest, making sure that the boys couldn't track him down. Taking off his cloak, he willed his wing to existence, darting toward the dark skyline of Midgar.

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Genesis had finally made up his mind. Only the means remained ambivalent. There were many unique ways but didn't he need to do it as silently as he could? True, Vincent's house was hardly within city borders but he never wanted a petty disruption ruin everything.

The sound of key turning in the lock brought him out of his thoughts, but he didn't bother to look, already knowing who was crossing the threshold. Genesis took the same broken bottle he had bought earlier, and filled the two tumblers on the table. He offered one to the caped man.

"Didn't expect to see you here again." A cold clawed hand took away the glass.

"Back to spying on those silver haired men, weren't you?" Smiling through his drink, he guessed what thoughts were racing on Vincent's head.

"You've were spying on them yourself."

"Tifa, that’s her name, isn’t it?" Genesis threw the shot back, closing his eyes as he savored the taste. The name would catch Vincent's attention immediately.

"Tifa?" The reply was almost inaudible.

"She's one forlorn lover of the blond, isn't she?" Shrugging indifferently, he continued. "Too bad she's left alone."

Genesis saw through auburn locks as the raven haired male turned around slowly, ruby eyes meeting his unique shade of azure.

"What have you done to her?"

"Protective, aren't you?" Setting the glass vessel on the plain table, he stood up gracefully, straightening his back. "Then why the _hell_ didn't you do that for your own _son_?"

Vincent was opening his mouth to say something but Genesis cut him off. "Those three are _his_ boys."

"Thus they are a threat."

"Oh? And why is it that way?" Genesis was barely restraining himself.

Shaking his head, Vincent left for his bedroom, mumbling under his breath, "You won't change your mind."

Following him, Genesis stood in the doorway, blocking his exit.

"Why don't you just stop taking his side? He's the world's enemy. No matter how many times he comes back, Cloud is going to fight him." Vincent said simply.

Images flashed before his eyes, some carved into his memory with white hot iron. There was a sudden urge to vomit. Genesis’ breath stuck in his throat.

His face contorted into a grimace as hurt flashed fleetingly in his eyes, replaced by venomous distaste as he glared at the now naked back. If looks could do harm.

Genesis could hear his own shaky, sharp inhales echoing too loudly for his ears in the room. "This time…" He felt the familiar warmth of his Hell Firaga envelope his fisted right hand. "However… he isn't going to be that lucky, and all of you can do naught."

His fingers were digging in his palm, as he tried repressing his fury. If it weren't for his gloves, he knew there would have been bruises by now. Pushing away from the doorframe, he left for the couch he had been sitting on, extinguishing the fire his hand.

The bitterness of Vincent's words still hung in the air around him, so bitter that it was palpable. His azure eyes were on the broken neck of the bottle when the crimson demon came back.

"What makes you sure about the future?" Vincent asked nonchalantly, as if he seemed to believe what he had said back there.

"What makes you hold confidence in a blonde boy who hasn't even made it to SOLDIER? He's nothing compared to Sephiroth, nothing compared to _me_." _‘To Angeal and even that irritating puppy.’_ "If Sephiroth wanted, the boy would have been as good as dead by now."

"Wasn't it you who told me, all those years ago, that when you asked for his help, he rejected you?" The raven haired man seemed like he was trying to reason with him.

 _‘Wrong move.’_ Genesis' eyes narrowed dangerously. ‘ _Don't you dare…’_ He held himself from uttering the retort, keeping himself at bay. He wasn't a patient man, and his patience was not to be tested. He knew that eventually, the small cracks in the dam would bring it all down. Instead he said, as calmly as he could manage, "That's irrelevant."

"That leaves no reason for you to follow him and his destiny, unless…" The older man’s eyes were watching him closely, as if waiting for his reaction.

Genesis could see as recognition flashed through those ruby eyes. He could hear the unuttered words so clearly in Vincent’s eyes.

_‘You love him.’_

Genesis could hear the crash, the roar of the water as all hell broke loose. In less than a second, Rapier was in his hand and he brought it down full force to meet Vincent's three barreled gun. He couldn't let it happen. It couldn't happen.

He had never thought that the cracks on his façade were so visible, but those three words would render everything useless, everything.

"Why do you keep following that blond blindly?" Flipping backwards, he brushed off Vincent's bullets with the blunt side of his sword. "Can't you see what your actions have brought upon the planet you are so passionately trying to save?"

"It was Sephiroth who was trying to destroy the planet."

Genesis jumped backwards, landing on the low coffee table, sending scorching fireballs at the man before him before caressing the ruby blade, bringing the runes on it to life. Swinging Rapier in a semi-circle, he watched as Vincent leaped backwards, firing at him, which he took care of by casting a barrier.

"He wants to cleanse this world of those humans, which neither you nor I belong to." The redhead said, his face devoid of emotion.

He could see as confusion flashed in those ruby eyes, the firm hold on the gun faltering momentarily, yet the ex-Turk shook his head, resuming their fight.

Vincent proved to be very skillful, as good as Tseng, if not better. No one knew if he had been there back then, at Shin-Ra, who'd have become the head of the department.

This was all new to him. He didn't know for how long this battle would go on. He had never engaged in a serious fight with the Turks.

"Why do you do this?" The elder's deep voice rang from his room, baiting him to come to whatever ambush he had set there.

"Why do I do what?" Genesis said as he closed his eyes, concentrating on his other senses as he tried to find out what his now enemy was up to.

It was silence at first, his own breathing, the soft creak of leather which he'd gotten used to soon filling in the room. His aura, the power of the entity inside him, the darkness was hard to miss, was hard to ignore, to resist. Genesis knew for sure that Chaos hadn’t emerged yet, and he was quite thankful for that.

Azure eyes flew open, the cold touch of metal on his forehead sending shivers down his spine. He wasn't afraid.

"This." Vincent’s face met him, a flash of some unknown emotion crossing his eyes, but vanishing before he could figure it out.

A smirk twisted his lips, amusement written all over his face. "What is _this_?" His eyes were riveted on the man who stood in front of him, the silent threat not making him lessen his hold on the hilt of his sword.

"Madness. Are you trying to get yourself killed?" There was a question behind Vincent’s deep voice which Genesis refused to hear.

"Why don't you just do it? Kill me so that your world can be a better, happier place to live?" He tilted his head, the smirk widening. "Your situation, this world and its inhabitants, are all beyond salvation."

Vincent was silent, his ruby eyes never the once looking away from him.

"Why don't you do it, Vincent? Why don't you kill me?" He moved away from the gun, though he saw as Vincent's finger twitched on the trigger. "Dye your hands with my blood," Emotions were flowing freely in his voice, his hand subconsciously flipped the auburn tresses behind his ears as he paced in front of Vincent's gun.

He came to a stop, looking fixedly at the older man’s golden-tinged ruby eyes. "Bathe in it, like you did in Sephiroth's."

The ex-Turk now held the gun with both hands, a slight tremble he hadn't noticed shaking them.

Genesis just stood there, letting the tangible silence fall around them. Vincent's erratic breathes broke it now and then, faint emerald traces wisping around him, the slight shake to his hands increasing until he collapsed to his knees. The redhead just watched.

Vincent’s bare chest was heaving, the ebony mane plastered across his pale skin in sharp contrast. For a second Genesis just wondered why the Turk never pulled the trigger. For the second after that, he wondered why he was now fighting Chaos. Was he trying to show him that he wasn’t a monster, like them? And then, Genesis just wondered why he was just standing there, doing nothing. He had come here for a reason.

The bottle of vodka was still sitting beside the couch. Did what Vincent was doing did their pas encounter at Nibleheim mean anything?

Did being fair, just, mean anything? He wasn’t Angeal, he never had been and never could be Angeal.

"Don't do this…" As if following his gaze, Vincent's exhausted whisper rang in the room.

Genesis never heard his last words.

It all happened in a blur.

Shards were on the floor, tangled between ebony tresses, everywhere.

Dark, viscous liquid was dropping from jagged shards that remained in his palm.

Onyx locks were on the floor, surrounding the ex-Turk in an angry halo, glistening with the blood that crawled lazily on the pale forehead, pooling around him.

There were things that needed to be done. Sacrifices were needed to be made. In this case, even sacrificing all of humanity wouldn’t suffice.

Vincent wasn't a human. He had belonged with them. He was just a mismatched ring of their chain.

He let go of the broken shards, turning on his heel, leaving for the door.

Being fair meant nothing. They were monsters after all.

Genesis felt nothing.


End file.
